


Working out the code

by MorteMistrata



Series: Lions everywhere [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, and all of them are in love, but they're having trouble understanding that, so they're all awkward, they're all dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorteMistrata/pseuds/MorteMistrata
Summary: Pidge writes messages that she knows will never be received. She tells her secrets in these messages, and tries to convince herself that the silly little crushes she harbors will go away. Little does she know, her feelings are more than returned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from my tumblr. Enjoy!

Pidge writes messages in her code; little pop-up windows that will never be activated, and white words on white backgrounds. She is too scared to admit to them aloud, because it seems more material when the words exist outside of her mind.

/I like the way the hair falls in his eyes/

/I keep staring and forgetting what I was going to say./

/Oh no. He got hot./

She has no target in mind when she writes them. Occasionally, a face will solidify, and she knows that she is not being abstract. She likes someone.

But the image, her target, it never settles; during training, Lance and Keith sparred together, and she couldn’t look away from the way Keith’s bangs tangled in his eyelashes, or the strong lines of Lance’s chest, visible through his armor. Oh no, she thinks. I have /two/ crushes.

This is not an ‘and/or’ statement. She cannot code both into her lifestyle; there is not enough room in her heart.

So she codes messages in the castles systems; little messages that they’ll never see, never trigger. What are the odds of a confession?

Minimal, she thinks.


	2. Chapter 2

Lance breaks his phone on the regular, and a year into their magical adventure in space, the screen shatters, and it becomes just another useless reminder of Earth. That’s okay, he thinks, because he has Pidge; undoubtedly, his favorite computer genius can do something to help, right?

He leans over her as she types something on her trusty laptop. She is curled into a small ball, and wrapped in a fluffy blanket like a nesting bird. Something about that imagery, and the cute way that she looks up at him, scowling, has his cheeks feeling warm. 

“Can you download my pictures from my phone into the castle?” He waves the broken phone in front of her until she frees an arm from her cucoon and grabs it.

“Hard drive is still okay, right?”

Her eyes seem softer when he gazes at them from above her glasses, dark brown like the mud pits by the beach, one wrong step and they’ll suck you in forever.

“Lance.”

He shakes his head, clears away the thought. “Huh? Yeah?”

“Did anything else break besides the screen?” She asks again, worded differently because maybe he hadn’t understood, worded so as not to seem demeaning, like he is stupid for not always being on her level. “Like, does it have water damage or something?”

“No.”

Pidge stares at it a moment more, and then nods. “Yeah. I can do it. You’ll have to use one of the Castle’s terminals though, and even though I changed most of it to English, you’ll have to figure out the keyboard before you can use it like you would your phone.” Pidge warns, looking much like a teacher lecturing to her class.

Lance nods, and tries not to let his mind wander to an image of Pidge in a sexy teacher’s outfit, and then when failing at that, to a sexy school girl. “Got it.”

Pidge’s arm disappears into her cuccoon once more. She tilts her head towards the library down the hall. “There are portable consoles in there. Like tablets,” She adds. Her cheeks seem tinted pink as she turns back to her computer, hiding almost. She goes back to typing through her blanket, and Lance considers himself dismissed.

Lance hasn’t really used any of the Castle’s tech, beyond the food replicators and the showers, bother of which took time and effort to figure out. He’d heard Hunk ask Allura for help at one point, but it had seemed embarrassing to do so; Lance figured it out on his own. He figures that he can do the same with the new tablet, as Pidge obviously could. 

There is a passing thought that he is no match for her intellect, but that quickly passes.

An hour later, he has figured out the altean correspondences for English letters on the keyboard, and can type- slowly, and with many mistakes. Eventually, he sets it up to capture his voice through the microphone, and finds an application for him to journal through.

He lounges on one of the arm chairs like a cat in the sun, and starts to talk. “I got lost in her eyes today, like some idiot who gets his hair stuck in Velcro. And yeah, I was that idiot in elementary school. Same thing happened in training today, and she beat me cause of it. I don’t think she bought that I was ‘just tired’ but she didn’t question it either.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He outta cut it before it turns into a mullet. “And then there’s Keith.” He wrinkles his nose at the thought. “I keep telling myself that I don’t like him but maybe I’m just jealous? Jealous of how good he is with that sword, of how nice his abs look in that Mamora suit, or maybe of his eyes. Cause they’re quiznacking purple! How is a guy supposed to stand up to those?” Lance shakes his head and laughs nervously. “Ah, I sound stupid. I should just tell her. 'Pidge, I like you.’ Shouldn’t be so hard.”

Lance sits back in his chair normally, and tries to save his diary entry. Instead of the screen that he was previously on, there are a multitude of pop-ups covering it.

/I like his eyes, so blue like the ocean./

/I like how he talks to me./

/I like

There’s about thirty or forty in all, and at least half of them seem to be about him. Brown skin, and blue eyes? He’s the only one on the castle who fulfills both criteria. But the others seem almost to match his thoughts about Keith, resonating in a way that quite frankly, scares him.

These had to come from Pidge, right? No one else would have done something like this. But those thoughts about Keith… Lance hums, and sends his diary entry to Pidge’s inbox, and waits. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe the two of them can figure this out together.


	3. Chapter 3

Keith does not know why Lance and Pidge are always together now. They sit next to each other at every meal, whisper things that even his Galra ears can’t make sense of; they disappear into each other’s rooms whenever they have spare time, and do not leave for hours. Whenever he has one of them cornered, the other comes to save them from his questioning. 

 

It nags him more than he cares to admit, that his friends, these two specific friends are avoiding him. He supposes that it shouldn’t bother him. Keith is used to solitude. His time with Mamora has only taught him that it is often painful to trust others with something as fragile as his heart, or expectations, but what is he, if not stubborn?

 

It takes a week for him to get Pidge to train with him, alone.

 

“Why are you and Lance always together?”  _ Without me,  _ he doesn’t say. His tone is harsh, he realizes, only when Pidge makes a mistake, and nearly gets hit with a heavy punch in the stomach. She dodges, and glares at him, settling into a defensive position. 

 

Her hair pinned back from her face, and her skin is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Galra don’t sweat. Not like humans do. And it’s a good thing too, as their noses are much more sensitive. On the worst of days, Keith can barely take being in a crowded room now, with all of the scents and smells mixing together in an unappetizing way. But alone, when it’s just the two of them, it’s not so bad. Her exertion has only made her usual sweet, feminine scent grow stronger, and he finds that he likes it. 

 

“We’re friends. Friends hang out together.” She says, as it if were an obvious truth. Keith doesn’t know much about friendship, or how friendship is supposed to work when you’re obligated to tolerate the people you live with, lest you kill someone with your inability to form Voltron, but he knows that this is an excuse. And a thin one at that. 

 

“Not all the time.” She makes a swing for his chest. Or perhaps it was his face. With her height, her options for targets are limited. Keith jumps back, and retaliates with a swooping kick. It messes with her balance, but she catches herself before she falls. “Not like you and Lance do.”

 

Pidge huffs, and tries an uppercut, feinting a lower punch. Keith sees through it, but lets her take him down anyways. He grabs her shirt, and he’s not sure why, but he drags her down with him. She lands on his chest, panting, sweet scent filling his nostrils like the steam off a freshly baked pie.

 

“We’re dating.” She admits, cheeks flushed. “Me and Lance are dating.”

 

Keith should feel satisfied. He has his answer. His mystery is solved. But he’s not. If anything, the ache in his chest only throbs more heavily. 

 

“Oh.” He says, gently shoving her aside. They untangle their limbs, but Pidge’s hand lingers on his arm as she sits beside him. There’s something in her expression that he can’t read, something like guilt or the expression one makes after eating one of Coran’s ‘famous paladin meals’; he must be going crazy. “Okay.” He says. She squeezes his arm once, and mutters something about that being enough training for one day before disappearing, leaving Keith alone with her scent, and the empty feeling she’d left behind. 


	4. Chapter 4

Keith does not like Lance right now.

 

He isn’t sure why.

 

He wants to find him, and demand  _ why.  _ Why, what? Keith asks himself as he stalks toward his room. Why he’s dating Pidge? Why they didn’t tell him? Why he’s jealous and yet aching all at once?

 

He’d been jealous of Lance when they’d first met. 

 

It was one of the few memories still vivid even after his time in space. The Garrison had had all new recruits go on a hiking trip with a simple mission: find, and capture the flag. The Galaxy Garrison flag was orange and black, which would have stood out among the greys and blacks of the city, but blended in almost perfectly out in the desert. Keith is color-blind. Orange and blue look almost the same for him. Although it had been a solitary mission, Keith had tagged along behind Lance, hoping to steal it from him during Lance’s inevitable victory dance. It hadn’t turned out that way at all. 

 

The flag had been hidden on a crag halfway up a sheer rock face. Hard, but not impossible to climb. Dangerous, but not deadly. Not with climbing gear. Keith didn’t have climbing gear. He’d climbed up after it anyways, and the sudden appeared of a bird screeching at him caused him to lose his balance, and he’d fallen. 

 

It wasn’t deadly, he’d told himself as he’d fell. It won’t kill me. But he was scared, and when Keith is scared, he makes mistakes. He’d landed almost perfectly, but not perfect enough. 

 

Despite how Keith had planned on stealing victory from Lance, despite his stupidity and stubbornness, Lance had bandaged him up, and helped him hobble three miles back to the Garrison, and had even let him claim victory, all without complaint. He’d been jealous of him then, because how could he be so kind? How could he allow this to happen without doing, or at least thinking of doing the wrong thing? It had seemed incomprehensible then, but now… 

 

Keith understood. Lance could get on his nerves like no one else could, but he was loyal, and friendly, and knew when to put aside his joking, competitive exterior for the sake of others.  He cared, and Keith, He… liked him. He guessed. It felt weird to think it so openly.

 

The realization is bittersweet. What’s the point in going to find Lance right now? Pidge is probably with him anyways, telling him all about how awkward training had been. What would he say? ‘I'm mad at you, and happy for you, and oh, I also feel kind of jealous and I don't know why?’ Keith has never been good with his feelings, but he's never despised his ineptitude until now. 

 

With a bitter sigh, he turns back around and heads back to the training room. People, emotions, he doesn't understand, but violence, the pain of fists hitting the hard leather of a punching bag? He understands that perfectly.


	5. Chapter 5

Pidge shifts nervously under Shiro’s gaze. He hasn’t said anything yet, and somehow, that makes it worse.

 

Lance stares intently at the wall behind Shiro’s head, a trick that Hunk often used whenever Lance’s schemes got the three of them sent to Iverson’s office. Pidge considers that he might be more uncomfortable than she is, and that’s saying something, because at the moment, her cheeks are hot enough to make her wish that she’d just melt into a puddle of Pidge-goo already.

 

Shiro crosses his arms, and raises his brow. “And how long have you two been dating?”

 

“Three.” Lance mutters.

 

“Three what? Three days? Three weeks?”

 

“Three months,” Pidge admits with a sigh. “Three months, and four days.”

 

Shiro doesn’t seem too terribly disappointed, which is good, Pidge thinks. If she had to choose, she’d choose his anger over his disappointment; the anger leaves much faster after all. Shiro hums under his breath for a moment, and then finally asks, “So what’s Keith’s part in all of this?”

 

“Wha- Keith? What makes you think Mullet has any part in- in our relationship?” Lance sputters, finally tearing his gaze away from that spot on the wall. Pidge is surprised that there’s not a whole burned into it from the sheer intensity of his staring. 

 

“Maybe because just before Voltron broke apart, Keith was thinking about the two of you?”

 

Pidge stays silent. If she says anything, she might spill everything, and that would be the most mortifying, embarressing thing that could ever happen to her. Not to mention, it would completely obliterate Lance’s self-esteem, which could be impossibly low at times. 

 

Lance comes to the defense once again, taking a step closer to Shiro as if sheer proximity might get the point across. “Well, Keith’s got a problem with  _ us.  _ That’s completetly one sided. Not to mention, how can you even know that?”

 

Shiro snorts. “It’s not one-sided. You two were thinking about him too, with various degrees of subtlety.” Lance opens his mouth to argue again, and Shiro holds up a finger to silence him. Lance falls back, shoulders slumping. “And I know this because I’ve got a really good connection with Black, and you guys have really loud thoughts when you’re not focusing on the battle.” Shiro turns to Pidge, and she tries her best not to look guilty. “Pidge, you’ve been pretty silent throughout this whole ordeal. Do you have anything you’d like to add?”

 

“Um,” She swallows, her mouth suddenly drier than the Iverson’s lessons. What is she supposed to say? Saying nothing is suspicious, because just like Lance, she’s got a penchance for talking, but saying too much could reveal it all. “I-uh, I’m sorry we weren’t focused?”

 

Shiro looks at her with one of those knowing looks of his, and she sighs. That wasn’t even close to the right response. “Pidge,” He places a hand on her shoulder. “Lance,” He straightens up when Shiro touches him; if they weren’t in this situation, she might laugh at his lingering hero-worship. “I’m happy for you guys, that you managed to find happiness in the midst of all of this. You guys have to miss out on a lot of teenage things because of what we do, and that is not a sacrifice that I take lightly. So I’m not going to ask you two to break-up, or not see each other, or any of that nonsense, okay?”

 

Pidge nods stiffly. Lance jerks his head in an awkward, relieved confirmation. 

 

“But this is affecting Voltron, whatever is, or isn’t going on with Keith. So you two are on probation until you figure this out. No hanging out together alone, no dates, no nothing. Not until we can form Voltron again.”

 

Pidge is already thinking of ways to get past this new rule. She can repeat camera footage, change door logs-

 

“And Pidge,” She snaps to attention. “I’ll know if you try anything. Hunk doesn’t know what, specifically he’s looking for, but he’ll know if something’s been tampered with.”

 

“Fine,” Pidge mutters, crossing her arms. She feels much like a chastised child whose favorite toy has been taken away. 

 

“Lance?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Probation. Got it.” Lance says, and although his voice is still pleasant, she knows that he’s pissed at how things have turned out. 

 

Shiro straightens up, and offers them a final smile. “Good. I expect if you put your minds to it, you can have this solved in a couple of days.”

 

Solved? The only solution that she can think of would be to tell Keith that she likes him too, and that would destroy Lance. No, she can’t do that. Lance would have to admit to it first, and that’ll be harder than getting him to give up the game controller. She sighs as Shiro walks out. This is going to be impossible.


	6. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is funny because conclusion and also I update slow. XD

Lance paces the hallway outside of Keith's room as he waits for him to return from his mission. He isn't sure when he'll arrive; Lance still isn't sure what he's going to say, and doesn't want to set Keith up for disappointment if he chickens out. It could be minutes. It could be hours. It could be days. Lance really hopes that it isn't days, because he does not intend to leave until he says what he's been meaning to say, and it would very much suck if he passed out from dehydration or a lack of food before then.

What will he say?

That both he and his girlfriend harbor a sense of attraction (mullet notwithstanding)? Nah, too formal.

That Lance likes him? He thinks of the ensuing confusion, knowing that Keith is not the type to understand things unless they are easily laid out. 

Lance puffs up his chest and stares at the door. He tries to imagine Keith standing in the doorway, a surly expression on his face. "Hey Keith, " His voice shakes a little, betraying the nervousness that he's desperately ignoring. "Would you, um, date me?"

The hand scanner blinks, and the blank screen is replaced with Pidge's hacker icon. "Aw, that was sweet."

Lance jumps, and then scowls at his girlfriend, undoubtedly watching from the other side. 

"Better than I thought you'd do, actually." A pause, probably so that Pidge can get her thoughts in order. "I think we should send him that. Like, as a message."

"What? No." Lance pauses. "Wait, why?"

"I don't think you'd do so well in person." Pidge says with a shrug. Her voice takes on a double timbre as she appears in her room doorway, just a few feet down the hall. "And Keith's not coming back for like another week."

Any protests that Lance might have had die on his lips. He knows himself well enough to understand her reasoning, and honestly doubts that he would be able to retain his current level of confidence upon his actual return. He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. 

"And what do you plan to do?"

Pidge produces a tablet, and pulls up a series of scrolling messages. When Lance touches the screen, they halt, and he realizes that he's looking at a list of her encoded thoughts, like the ones he had found about himself. "I'll send him these. Forty-seven are about him. The other half is about you."

Lance is about to make a quip of some sort about her indirect ways of communication, but he notices that redness in her cheeks and realizes that she too feels awkward and apprehensive about this. They aren't on Earth anymore, but that doesn't make this seem any less weird. 

"Okay," He nods. "Go ahead and do it."

Pidge bites her lip, and presses send. 


	7. finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my effort to update or finish all stories before the new year, I have finally finished this. I hope you all enjoy it, and I wish you all a happy holiday season.

Keith sees the message an hour after it is sent. He’s supposed to be sleeping, waiting for their dropship to arrive at the location of their next target, but he can’t. His mind is uncharacteristically busy, and thoughts of the people he’s left behind fumble around like a kicked hornets nest. 

The message is simple. 

_ Keith, _

_ I hope that when you get this you understand.  _

_ -Pidge _

Attached are two files. One is small, and the other is much larger. Keith has never been much of a computer guy, but he thinks that their formats vary too. His finger hovers over the screen. 

His curiosity is piqued, that’s for certain, but he hesitates to open them. If he does, will they bring good news, or bad? Will it make the feeling of loss that lies within his chest, hidden and unassuming until he comes face to face with Pidge or Lance, erupt once more? He could barely stand his own against the castle training bots in this state, let alone real soldiers of the Galra empire. If he opens this now, will he even live to regret it when the battle is done?

Keith sets the tablet down. Whatever it is that Pidge has sent him can wait until his duty is done. If it were that important, wouldn’t she have told him to his face before he left? After all, she was the only one who was able to send him off when he’d left for his sudden mission. 

Across the room, Regris shifts in his sleep. There is no sound within the walls of this ship that he doesn’t recognize, except for the voice in the back of his head, urging him to pick the tablet up again. Keith rolls onto his side, and closes his eyes. Right now, he needs to sleep; not worry about what will undoubtedly be another source of emotional hurt.

ooooo

The next morning, Pidge finds that her message is still unopened and unread. She wonders if it had arrived in time; after all, inter-galactic communication was less than instant, unlike the internet on earth. But she’d checked before she’d sent it off, and by her calculations, it should have arrived by now, twice over. If he had’ve opened it, she would’ve known. 

Her annoyance shifts to real worry. What if he hasn’t read it because he’s injured, or dead? The Blade doesn’t hesitate to leave people behind for the sake of the mission. Even she knows that, and she hardly talks to any of them except for Keith.  They could have left him behind at the mercy of the Empire to be killed, or worse- tortured for his knowledge of Voltron, and the Red lion. They could have-

Lance tosses a pillow at her head, and watches as she sputters and turns to glare at him. 

“What was that for?”

“You looked like you were thinking too hard.” Lance says. He leans against the doorframe, rather than trying to walk across her mess of a floor to meet her. “And we both know that no good can come of that.”

“Ha,” Pidge snorts. “If I didn’t do all of the thinking around here, we’d be lost or dead right now.” Before Lance can protest, she adds, “I mean, whose idea was it to set fire to the food goo, and then try to use my sweater to put it out?”

“That was an isolated event,” Lance says, faking offense. He offers her a hand as she makes her way to the door. “And I’m serious. You’re worrying about him, aren’t you?”

“Like you’re not?”

“I never said that. I’m just not focusing on it like you are. Come on. Let’s go watch a movie or something. No use in worrying to death about something we can’t change.”

Pidge considers protesting, but he’s right. No matter what she might do, none of her actions will affect Keith. All she can do is wait. 

“Okay,” She relents. “But only if I get to pick.”

ooooo

 

On the third day of Keith being gone, the Castle gets a message from Kolivan. The feed is staticy, and his words are hard to hear, but even so, they all understand the meaning o his somber expression. 

“Is he okay?” Pidge comes to a stop as she runs onto the bridge, sliding the last few feet as she attempts to not fall. Lance grabs her arm to steady her, but she hardly notices as she looks up and meets Kolivan’s gaze. “Is Keith okay?”

“He is- injuries sustained-” The feed goes black for a moment. When it comes back on, it reveals Kolivan’s face in profile, as he looks up at something behind him. His eyes widen- even the Galra show fear sometimes, Lance notes, but when he looks back, his expression is controlled. “Sending him and a ship of- these coordinates.” The image freezes one final time, though the audio continues on in the background until Allura finally steps forward and manually shuts it off. 

“Did we get those coordinates?” Pidge asks, with an urgency to her voice that Lance hasn’t heard since the search for her brother. 

Allura shakes her head. “We got most, but it’s not precise. We only have the quadrant he’s supposed to be in.”

“But that’s a start.” 

“Yes,” Allura says, but she still sounds hesitant, like she doesn’t want to get Pidge’s hopes up. “It’s a start.”

Lance holds Pidge’s hand, intertwines their fingers like a vine around a post, and forces himself to offer a thin smile. “Knowing Keith, he’ll be fine. He’s like the cockroach of- of- people. And if he’s not, we’ll be there to save him.” His voice sound more reassuring than he’d expected. The calm he projects is nothing like that which he feels. 

Ooooo

 

Keith hides. Hiding feels like giving up, and he has to fight the urge to run back out into the fray every second that he sits there in the maintenance closet where Kolivan left him. He doesn’t have the endurance of his mother, or he quickly clotting blood, and he knows that if he runs out there again with the knife still stuck in his leg, he won’t last very long at all. 

Still, he wants to fight.

He wonders now if his refusal to read that message has come back to bite him in the ass. He’s bleeding out now, and the blades won’t be able to come back for him if they manage to survive this battle. His best bet to stay alive is to stay still. His best bet to escape is to return to the fight. 

His hand tightens around his blade. It shifts from dagger to short sword, then back again. He considers standing, but more blood gushes out around the knife when he shifts, and he understands that he cannot. Not if he wants to live long enough to read that message. He can only hope that someone will find him before the question of to fight or not to fight doesn’t matter anymore. 

Ooooo

The Castle manages to teleport to the coordinates Kolivan had given them, but when they get there, the tide of the battle has turned against the Blades so harshly, that their immediate involvement is prudently necessary. There is no time for Pidge to study the layout of the base. There is no time for calculations of the battle maneuvers necessary to end this quickly. There is no time to do anything but step into her lion, and hope that they don’t need Voltron to end this. 

The familiar view of the stars outside her view screens does nothing to calm her, and the others can feel her anxiety as their bonds with their lions amplify. 

“Pidge,” Lance starts. He is interrupted by a sudden swerve to avoid laser fire, and nearly runs into Allura in his attempt. “Pidge, it’s okay. He’ll be okay until we finish up here. We both know that he’s too stubborn and hardhead to die.”

 

If they hadn’t been so connected, if she hadn’t been privy to the contents of his mind, she might have believed him. But beyond his brave words is fear, just as sharp as her own. 

“I-” She considers. Her worrying is only causing herself and the rest of the team to grow distracted. It’s not helping. It’s not doing anything beneficial. She doubts that anything will force her to calm down, but she can at least pretend, the same as Lance is doing. “Okay. You’re right.”

Pidge can feel a small blip of happiness at hearing her say those words, but that is quickly replaced with concentration as they regroup to face the battle ahead of them. 

Ooooo

Lance is good enough to not need his entire focus to do his job. He’s spent most of his life half in a daydream, and today is no different. While his hands steer, and fire lasers at their opponents, his mind focuses on the ever so faint sense of Keith that lingers in the back of his mind; a remainent of his days as the Red lion. 

He can’t feel much. Just a sense of pain, like a headache that he’s grown used to, and annoyance. 

“Watch your six!” Hunk says as he swerves past his right flank, tearing into a Galra fighter ship with the maws of his lion. The ship crumbles like a soda can within Yellow’s jaws, and Lance is glad that he is not close enough to see what remains of the pilot. 

Lance does a quick one-eighty, and sends out an electromagnetic pulse that shuts down the six ships on his tail. He fires a broad laser at them, melting the more delicate systems, yet leaving the life support online, for the time being. Being dead in the water is not much better than being dead, but Lance likes to think that he’s giving them a chance. 

Lance leaves them behind, discarded like trash on the sidewalk, and heads back into the fray. “I think the base is-” Lance is no longer in his lion. He is in a dark room that is fuzzy on the edges, and his leg is numb. There is something wet underneath him, and then he is back, a laser striking Red’s hind leg with searing accuracy. “We need to go, now.”

“Lance, what’s wrong? What was that?” Shiro asks.

“Keith is hurt. We need to-” Another laser strikes him, and Lance can feel the heat as it tears through Blue’s armor. “Now. Right now.”

Lance isn’t sure why Shiro gives in so quickly. Is it the pain in his voice? The frantic feeling in his chest? Lance isn’t sure, but he knows for certain that no one else felt what he did, or else they’d be talking about it to.

“Okay,” Shiro says. His eyes seem weary and tired, like he’s had enough of the life or death games, enough flirting with being the hero. “You and Pidge, head out. Hunk, Allura and I will finish up here.”

“Thank you.” Lance says. The sense of gratitude at Shiro’s trust for him is almost enough to ignore the dull pain that isn’t his. “Thank you.”

Ooooo

Keith is trying his best to keep his eyes open. It’s harder than he would’ve expected after all of those sleepless nights, and the harsh mornings after. He shouldn’t be having a problem but-

His chin hits his chest, and the impact forces his eyes open. 

The blood loss is getting to him. If he’s going to try for a mad escape, he has to do it now. 

Keith grabs onto the shelf above him, and tries to push himself onto his feet, but his arm slips, and he falls before he can even get to his knees. His vision fades to black for one worrying moment, but he forces himself to focus, and comes back from the brink of unconsciousness. Keith tries again, mindful now of how weak he actually is, and manages to get onto his feet. He has to lean heavily on the wall just to stay upright, but he’s up. He’s doing it. 

With victory in mind, he hobbles out the door and into the hallway.

Ooooo

Pidge doesn’t download a map of the base. Lance is as good as a hunting dog in sniffing Keith out; every few minutes he gets another connection, and leads her deeper into the base with increasing confidence and worry. Pidge feels helpless. She feels useless. She wants to help. 

There’s nothing she can do until they find them, and she can put those Garrison required first aid skills to use. 

She follows Lance with a quicker step.

Ooooo

Lance can hardly see the hallway in front of him, but it doesn’t matter. Keith has seen it, and the tug towards him only gets stronger the longer the connections last. 

**Bleeding, pain, blood trail, footsteps, Lance’s face.**

Pidge tugs him to an abrupt stop. Keith stands unsteadily before them, leaning heavily on the wall. His chest heaves with every effort to breathe, and Lance just barely manages to catch him before he falls.

Ooooo

Keith can’t feel his legs and suddenly he is on the ground, facing the ceiling. Pidge is worrying over him, her suit covered hands covered in blood as she performs emergency first aid. 

“You’re here.” He says. “You’re both here.”

“Of course we are. Didn’t you read my message?”

Keith looks away guiltily. 

“Of course you didn’t. All of us are apparently incapable of communicating like goddamned adults.” Pidge mutters as she ties a tourniquet above the knife, which she still does not remove. “But you are the worst of us all. If you had just read the damn note, you would’ve-”

“I would have what?”

Pidge’s cheeks are red and flushed as she leans down and kisses him. Her mouth is warm, and soft, and for a moment, it lets him forget about his wound, about the past few months, about-

“Lance?”

“What about him?” She says as she pulls away, wiping the spit from her mouth.

“I thought you-”

“I would kiss you too, if I weren’t busy playing guard.” Lance says, not looking away from the hallway entrance. “We’re both- both of us- we-”

Pidge laughs as his suaveness melts away. “We both like you. It just took us a while to realize it.”

“Oh,” Keith says. He relaxes as Pidge runs her fingers through his hair. With her other hand, she sends a beacon with their location to Shiro. “Okay.”

Keith feels a strange sense of contentment at the knowledge that those feelings he’d been having, the attraction he couldn’t bring himself to admit to, is reciprocated. And with that thought in mind, he finally allows himself to rest.


End file.
